A Power Game

The town could be described in now way other than amazing. It took them an hour to reach its walls, a time which passed quickly for the two teenagers. By the time they reached the city, the sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon. The sky was still clear and blue, but the edges were beginning to fade to deep purple. It made a breathtaking backdrop for the city of Arenvale.

The walls were tall, rising thirty feet from the ground, and made of solid stone brick. Each block was placed together so closely, Mhykol doubted he could slide a piece of paper between them. The gates were in the center of the east wall, and they stood open. Two towers, made of the same grey brick, soared into the sky beside the gate. As they approached, a voice hailed them from one of the towers.

"Who approaches?" The voice was male, but it held a strange twang to it. It sounded like the man was speaking through a guitar. Mhykol supposed it must be an accent.

Rain raised one hand, making a symbol above her head by twisting her ring finger over her pinky, and making a circle from her thumb and middle finger. Her pointer finger stayed rigid.
"Friends of the peace!" Her light, powerful voice carried easily to the top of the towers. "My name is Rain Goodin, and my friend is Mhykol Wolfe."

As she finished, a figure appeared at the top window of the tower. It was darkened by the deep shadows of the tower roof, but Mhykol thought he could make out the figure of a small woman. As Mhykol watched, she climbed onto the small lip at the edge of the window, teetering dangerously. His eyes widened in horror.

"Rain, she's going to jump!" Mhykol raised one hand, pointing to the illuminated silhouette in the window. Rain simply raised her chin, watching with interested green eyes.

The figure hung in the air for a moment, feet solidly planted on the rock windowsill, and then she dropped like a stone. Her body plummeted towards the ground faster than Mhykol would have believed possible. Her clothes flapped in the wind as she tumbled through the air, her hair flying around her neck and shoulders.

She hit the ground with the sickening thudding crunch of bones striking dirt. A cloud of dust exploded from her feet as they connected with the earth, blocking the carnage from view. Mhykol took one step forwards, eyes wide. Slowly, he raised one arm, and let it fall back to her side.

"Is she...?" Even before he asked it, he knew the question was stupid. Nobody could survive a fall like that.

But sometimes the world doesn't work as we think it does.

As the dust cleared, Mhykol made out the form of a person - standing. Their form was blurry, but as the wind blew away the ashy dust from around their body, they came into focus.

It was a young man - not a woman. He had short, sandy blonde hair and blue eyes so deep they were like the bottom of the ocean. His ears were large, and gave him the look of a clown. That, coupled with the boyish grin that tugged at his mouth, made Mhykol dismiss him as an enemy. The boy was wearing jeans, and a light grey t-shirt, with a dark grey overcoat that stretched down below his knees, the lapels wrapping around his chin. His right arms was wrapped in a metal chain, and a steel cross dangled from his wrist. It jingled lightly as he approached them, hand outstretched.

"Good evening, Rain." He bowed deeply to the young woman before turning to Mhykol. "Nice to meet you, sir. I am Reese Long."

Mhykol flinched slightly in sympathy for the last name.

"I'm Mhykol Welsh." Mhykol shook the boy's outstretched hand, surprised to find it strong and heavily calloused. As he finished, Reese frowned.

"I thought you said his name was Mhykol Wolfe?" Reese asked Rain with an inquisitive look. "But it's Welsh?"

Mhykol shrugged slightly. "My mothers maiden name is Wolfe. Welsh is the surname of my foster mother, so it's what I take-" The other boy looked slightly taken back, so Mhykol was inclined to add; "- but it's fine if you call me Wolfe. Words are just words."

The other boy smiled in relief, nodding respectfully to Mhykol before releasing his hand.

"So what are you two looking for?" And as quick as that, Reese was all boyish charm again.

"Just a place to sleep, and somewhere to get a drink. I was going to take him to Jason's bar."

Reese smiled, nodding a few times slightly. No more than a slight incline of the chin. "Do either of you mind if I join you?" He paused, measuring them quickly. "I wouldn't be interrupting ... anything, would I?"

Rain laughed lightly. "Not at all Reese, it would be an honor. It's been too long."

Mhykol was fine with the boy tagging along with them. Despite his sudden shifts between young boy and mature guardsman, Mhykol felt oddly drawn to the youth. There was something about his easygoing, casual manner of drawing people out that made Mhykol trust him. As the three walked, he studied the boy more closely out of the corner of his eye. There was something that tickled at the edges of his mind. Something familiar about this boy. The boy saw him staring, and turned to face him.

"Everything alright, Mhykol? You're staring at me like I just grew a second head." The boy's voice was joking.

"Yeah." Mhykol raised one hand as if brushing off the question. "Yeah, everything's okay. You just reminded me of someone I knew."

"Ah, I see."

Reese turned back to Rain, saying something that Mhykol didn't catch, but that made the younger girl laugh. The boy didn't exactly walk, it was more of a casual saunter that spoke of ...confidence. That was when it clicked. Reese reminded him strikingly of Roman Welsh. It was all there, from the optimistic glow around his thin eyes, to the self-assured saunter, right down to the dangerous aura both boys wore around themselves like a cloak.

"Reese?" Mhykol's voice was hesitant, and the other boy turned to look at him in concern, catching the tone in his voice.

"That's my name?"

"Do you know a Roman Welsh? Like, outside of the game."

The other boy's eyes widened in astonishment, and he stopped walking. He looked at Mhykol carefully, his head tilted slightly to one side. One of his hands slid to his waist, touching the handle of his sword.

"How do you know that?" The boy's already naturally almond-shaped eyes narrowed to slits. Mhykol back up a step quickly, holding up both hands in a peaceful gesture. Vaguely, he remembered Rain saying something about towns being safe from PVP, but the boy across from him looked like he was fully capable of taking Mhykol's head off if he didn't like his answer.

"He's my, ah, step-brother." Mhykol swallowed, "You just reminded me of him is all."

Instantly, the other boy relaxed. His hand slid away from his sword handle, and he seemed to unwind out of fighters position. He raked one long-fingered hand through his sandy hair, giving Mhykol an apologetic smile.

"I should; Roman's my cousin." The boy bit his bottom lip gently with his teeth. His air of complete and utter destruction was gone, replaced by a feeling of slight irritation. "We don't exactly get on very well." The boy shook his head, snapping out of his grim state. "But hey, you're not him, right? I'm sure we'll get along just fine." He boy pushed him lightly in the shoulder, grinning. "Besides, if we don't then I'll just kill you. Sucks for you, but it would make me feel a hell of a lot better." The tall boy winked, throwing one arm around Mhykol's shoulders jokingly. "Plus, you're far cuter than Roman."

Mhykol ducked out of the half-embrace, staring at the other boy in humorous shock.

"Reese, stop hitting on my friends." Rain made it sound as if this was an everyday event, and Mhykol glanced at her in amazement. He turned to look back at Reese, who was bowing to Rain fervently.

"Yes mother, sorry mother." Reese's voice was mocking.

"Oh shut up." Rain turned on one heel, walking quickly down the street. As Mhykol and Reese hurried to catch up with her, Mhykol could have sworn he saw a smile hovering around the young girls lips.

It took them just under ten minutes to reach their destination - a small wooden building by the name of The Prancing Pony. It was a tall, two-story building made of thick, dark wood logs still wrapped in their bark. Windows were cut in the logs, about two dozen of them, and light shone from about half.

Glancing at the sign quickly, Reese pushed open the door, striding in confidently. As soon as the door opened, the smell of alcohol and cooked meat wafted out, backed by the smell of roasting vegetables. The smell made Mhykol's mouth water.

Rain leaned in close, whispering in his ear. "The owner is a guy named Jason. He's a bit rough around the edges, but he's a good man at heart. Bright, too. Just don't get on his bad side, don't start any fights, and don't look too long at any of the serving women, and you'll be fine." She poked him lightly in the ribs with one finger. "The final one won't get you on Jason's bad side, but it'll get you on mine."

Mhykol grinned ruefully, rolling his eyes. "Far worse."

Rain smiled, "You learn fast." She looped one of her arms through his as they approached the bar. As they sat, Mhykol admired the dining room. It was a grand space, with a soaring roof and for columns helping the thick wooden walls support the rooms above. A roaring fire blazed in a hearth across the room, spilling golden-red light over everything and heating the room to a barely too-hot warmth. Mhykol took off his jacket immediately, laying it across the back of his chair. There was a dozen tables, of different sizes, surrounded by sturdy chairs. Each had a lit candle on it, helping to shed light over the already bright room. The bar they approached was meticulously cleaned, and made of polished granite. Mhykol rested his arms against the surface, letting the cool surface leak some of the heat from his arms.

"Nice place, huh?" The question belonged to Reese, and Mhykol nodded to him.

"Yeah, really. It seems ... friendly."

Reese grinned, shaking his head in agreement. Raising one hand, he gesture a serving girl over. The inn wasn't busy, and Mhykol counted nine people in the room other than them. Three of which were serving girls, who were serving and cleaning. There was also a massive man lounging in one corner, who Mhykol assumed was some type of bouncer. He noticed Mhykol looking, and gave him a lopsided grin. His massive bald head shone in the light of the candles, and his arms looked like he was smuggling melons in them. A thick metal stud protruded from each of his knuckles, glowing orange in the light of the fire.

Mhykol nodded to him, raising a hand in greeting. Ignoring him, the man tilted his chair back, closing his eyes. Breathing out in relief that that exchange was over, Mhykol turned back to Rain and Reese. They were chatting happily.

The serving girl that Reese had gestured to walked over, balancing a plate of glasses in one hand deftly. She was short, with bright red hair and green eyes. Her white dress, hemmed in light grey at the neck and bottom, which ended between her knees and her hips, swayed around her as she walked. Upon reaching them, she curtsied to Rain, dipping her head respectfully, and kissed Reese lightly on the cheek. Her viridescent eyes sparkled.

"What can I get for you?"

"Just drinks, please. We'd also like to rent a room for the night." Fishing around in her pocket, Rain pulled out six silver coins, each the size of a quarter. She raised the money to the serving girl, who shook her head. Leaning close, the girl whispered to Rain.

"We've got lots of room tonight, don't worry, it's on me." Stepping back, the girl raised both hands in a friendly gesture, narrowing her eyes cheerfully.

"And suffer the wrath of your father? I don't think so." Rain opened her hand, letting the coins fall onto the counter. They pinged sharply as they bounced along the granite surface, dancing in spinning silver circles. The serving girl quickly swept them up in one hand, throwing an exasperated look at Rain.

"Thank-you Miss Goodin. I'll be right back with your drinks."

The serving girl walked away quickly, pushing through a swinging wooden door behind the bar.

"I swear I'll marry that girl." Reese's voice was joking, but his eyes were serious and thoughtful. The fingers of his right hand tapped a beat softly on the counter-top as he gazed at the door the girl had vanished through.

Mhykol wasn't sure what caused him to lay one hand on the boy's arm. "Of course you will." His voice was reassuring, and the other boy nodded, as if he had decided on something.

"You've known her for a while?"

The boy nodded, smiling slightly. "Yeah. We're old childhood friends." He paused for a moment before speaking again. "I would have asked her earlier, but I didn't have enough money until a few days ago."

"You recently came by it?"

As Mhykol spoke the words, the temperature in the room seemed to drop by thirty degrees. The door opened, and a gust of cold wind swirled across the floor. The candles on the tables snuffed out, and the fire in the hearth danced wildly, shrinking against the cold blast of air. Everyone in the room turned to look at the newcomer, and Mhykol felt his mouth go dry with fear. The man was massive, dressed in a black cloak that hid his entire body. The only ornament or change in color that Mhykol could see was a silver badge that was pinned over the man's heart in the shape of a wolfs' head.

The man surveyed the room slowly, meeting the eyes of every man present. His face was thin and hard, with deep black eyes and a close-shaven black beard. Thick black eyebrows closed closely over a chiseled nose and prominent cheekbones. The man carried a Y-shaped spear easily in one hand, much like a trident, using it as a walking stick.

His voice, when he spoke, was deep and rich.

"My name is Amen Haein, leader of the Dead Syndicate, and this city is now under my control." He raised one hand to his head, brushing back the deep hood from his face. As the light of the fire fell across his hard visage, he smiled widely. His teeth were in perfect white rows, standing out startlingly with the black of his beard and shaggy hair. His black eyes, Mhykol could see, were full of power, completely in control. There was also a strange light in them, one that both drew Mhykol in and filled him with a burning fire. Suddenly, Mhykol wanted to fight, to hit someone.

"Resist, and die."